Abandoned
by Darkenwood
Summary: When Camelot is attacked by a Saxon army Camelot's Crown Prince falls into enemy hands. With Merlin and the others held hostage there is nobody left to save Arthur except himself - and maybe Morgana. Corrected version and hopefully easier to read!
1. Introduction

**Abandoned**

**I. Introduction**

When the fifth night dawned on his captivity, Arthur Pendragon started to feel again. So far his soul had been paralyzed by shock and disbelief. Five days had passed since he had been taken prisoner. Alone, locked up in a cell in Camelot's deeper dungeons and then in the upper chamber of the once luxurious but long since abandoned northern tower, the young Prince had had all the time of the world to be driven near madness by his own thoughts running wild.

Now, emerging from the initial shock, fear for his friends began to eat away at him, for Merlin, Gaius, Gwen, Sir Leon and all the others whom he knew were still in Camelot, at his captors' mercy.

Arthur tortured his mind with visions what might or might not have happened to them since King Uther had deserted his throne, his castle and his son.


	2. The siege

**Abandoned**

**II. The siege**

Reports had reached Camelot that a vast Saxon army under the command of King Vortigern had made landfall at the nearest coastline, marching directly towards Camelot's borders. Unbelievably fast they had reached the Pendragon Kingdom's outskirts where they had caused gruesome havoc to all aristocratic estates, to the roads and to the handful of urban settlements that formed Camelot's military and economic power basis.

Being busy defending their estates, Camelot's barons hadn't dreamed of reducing their military forces by sending help to the capital. Finally, after only 12 days, Vortigern had laid siege to Camelot castle itself, outnumbering the defenders eight to one.

With all the citizens of the lower city as well as many refugees from the outlying areas cramped into the stronghold, Camelot's resources were tested to their limits within the siege's first week especially as the castle had hardly had time to procure additional provisions or accommodations.

When the severed heads of three different messengers were thrown back into the castle by Vortigern's catapult it had been clear that no message would get through to the neighbouring Kingdoms, even if anyone should have hoped that the other Kings would send help when Camelot's own barons had forsaken their capital and King in the blink of an eye.

Arthur had been the commander of the knights who defended the castle walls against the ferocious onslaughts of the Saxon fighters. It had been a miracle that they had been able to fight back the attackers at all. Watching more and more of his men fall, Arthur had felt the first forebodings of despair. Therefore, when his father had mentioned the possibility of negotiations with the enemy, the Prince had wholeheartedly supported the notion.

King Uther had insisted on carrying out the negotiations himself – and alone, accompanied only by the most trusted member of his council. The man, Eric by name, had been Uther's companion even before the older Pendragon had first come to Camelot where the young Queen Igraine had fallen in love with the handsome stranger and finally married him, making him, the landless foreigner, a King.

Nobody in Camelot's aristocracy had accepted Igraine's choice. Uther had fought to overcome the inner resistance of Camelot's elites, but when Igraine died he did not fool himself by the hope that the barons and cities would refrain from challenging him. Surprisingly, they didn't.

Finally he had gathered that the barons knew they would not be able to agree on one of them becoming King. However, they could agree on accepting Arthur as their future King, him being Igraine's offspring.

Since then Uther had known that he was King of Camelot by his son's grace only. In the night before Arthur's coronation as Crown Prince, Uther had tried to talk to his son about what this had always meant to him. Uther had always seen him and treated him as the future heir and rarely, if ever, just as a beloved child.

Quite uncharacteristically, Arthur, feeling horribly embarrassed, had simply fled the room. But from that day on he had developed a significant coolness and remote attitude towards the old aristocratic families. This included those 15 among the Camelot knights who were the first born sons of the realm's most powerful barons. In fact the young Prince, albeit not being the subject of it, had felt the barons' arrogance and despise for Uther more painfully than the King himself had ever felt it.

Therefore, when Eric and Uther rode out to the enemy camp, after Vortigern had accepted the truce and negotiations, Arthur had felt once more an immense pride in his father's courage and dedication. Not for the first time he thought that Camelot did not really deserve a King as devoted as Uther Pendragon.

For once the Crown Prince, who had been wounded in the last fights on the wall by an arrow that hit his left shoulder, had willingly obeyed his father's wishes. Gaius, the court physician, had been allowed to pamper him a bit. For two days Arthur had let Gaius take care of his shoulder and Merlin fuss about him as only his young manservant could – and would – ever do.

Actually Arthur had enjoyed the brief period during which he had not had to worry about his clumsy, idiotic but utterly loyal if somewhat unofficial friend. Merlin obstinately insisted on staying near Arthur when he was fighting on the wall albeit the Prince doubted that the boy really knew which end of a sword was the lethal one. In the thickest fights and the closest calls Merlin's unruly black mop of hair would appear right at Arthur's side. The fragile, skinny boy stubbornly ignored Arthur's orders to stay behind; always declaring, dead seriously, that he had to protect his Prince. But while he was glad that his soldiers and Merlin were safe for a while, the younger Pendragon had tortured himself mercilessly with worries about his father's safety.

When Uther had come back unharmed and with the news that Vortigern and his council were inclined to bargain for peace, the whole of Camelot had cheered for joy and relief. Nobody had bothered the King with questions after the enemy's terms. Nobody had cared that it seemed strange for Vortigern, having the complete advantage over Camelot, to settle for less than full conquest. Only Merlin had been doubtful at King Uther's announcement of near peace, but Arthur had snapped at him, asking him whether he would really want to insult his father with these doubts.

Soon, all courtiers and servants had taken the opportunity to find some quiet and rest, after many days of fear for their very lives and future. Only the doubled guards on the wall had naturally stayed on alert, watching the enemy in the meadow in front of the castle's outer walls for some unexpected, treacherous moves.


	3. Betrayed

**Abandoned**

**III. Betrayed**

A few hours later Merlin had banged against Arthur's door, sleepy and out of breath, telling the Prince that King Uther wanted to see his son and the manservant in Camelot's vaults immediately.

On their arrival, the two young men had been astonished to see the vaults' inner doors open. It was a secret known to only a few people that the vaults beneath Camelot castle harboured a subterranean escape route to the meadow and the small river at the eastern side of the castle's outer wall. At the first sight of enemy troops Uther had ordered Sir Leon, the head of the Camelot knights, to secure the heavily fortified inner doors which blocked the route against an enemy intrusion.

"Father? Father, what are you doing here at this time of night?" When Arthur saw his father speaking to two unknown men in the rock chamber in front of the last blocking door he could hardly hide his irritation.

With all their attention focused an Uther, Arthur and Merlin entered the rock chamber, when the King suddenly called "NOW!"

Arthur had heard a soft thud as Merlin was knocked out cold by a man who had been invisible behind a corner of the room's entrance. The Prince had had no chance to react as a second man threw a rope over his head and pulled it tight, effectively tying Arthur's arms to his side while the others came for him. In the blink of an eye they had tied his hands behind his back and gagged the young man so hard he could hardly breathe. Stunned, unbelieving Arthur had looked at his father's face while Uther, only two steps away, watched his son being captured, unmoving.

When the men had been satisfied that the Crown Prince was subdued, their leader had turned to Uther. "Your Majesty has done a fine day's work". Mockingly caressing his helpless captive's cheek and neck he continued "King Vortigern will be pleased. Normally so precious a hostage is hard to come by. And with so little effort".

He had barked a command and his men had dragged Arthur through the last blocking door. Bound to one of the horses which had been tethered outside, the young Prince, paralyzed more by shock than by his bonds, had been taken to the enemy camp.

With a leather rope round his neck he had been tethered to a tent pole like a young dog. It had been a gruesome night, in which a still very young man, used to being pampered by attention and appreciation, had for the first time in his life felt utterly abandoned. The feeling had chilled him to the bones. Sometime in the early hours of dawn something very precious inside him had been torn apart beyond repair, leaving him numb in body and soul.

It had been only the suffocating gag that had kept the otherwise so proud and superior Prince of Camelot from crying for his lost trust and faith in the man that was his father.


	4. Conquered realm

**Abandoned**

**IV. Conquered realm**

They had come for him in the late morning hours and dragged him out to an impromptu looking wooden platform that overlooked the main gates of Camelot.

There two soldiers had held him, still with bound hands and gagged, to watch his father and the 15 high born boys he had called the "baron knights" ride out of the castle, swords at their hips, in spurred boots and chain mail, unmolested and unhindered into the bright and beautiful April morning until the grand parade vanished from sight.

While it would have been hard to overlook him in his bright red shirt on the sunny platform, the knights he had trained, lived with, laughed with and fought with had never even looked his way. Nor had his father as much as turned his head.

Arthur had still been on that platform when Sir Leon had ridden into the enemy camp, unarmed and alone. The head knight of Camelot had faced a regal looking man in front of a magnificent tent a few steps away from the platform. With only a sweeping thought Arthur had realized that he must be Vortigern himself.

As Leon hesitated, the Saxon King had given a quick nod to the soldiers who held Arthur. One of them had pressed his dagger at the Prince's throat while the other brutally twisted the captive's wrist. All at once Arthur had felt the burning pain of the cutting ropes again, after his arms had become mercifully numb overnight. The young man had not been able to suppress a moan.

Looking at his Prince Leon had paled and hastily handed over the regal insignia of Camelot, sceptre, crown and royal seal. While Vortigern had passed them on to his follower, Leon had said something but Arthur hadn't heard a thing.

Vortigern's voice, deep and surprisingly calm, had replied "Your Prince has to accept that he has to obey me as his King and master. From now on my word is the law and only my will counts."

Arthur had recognized Camelot's royal insignia when Vortigern had passed them on to the man who stood at his right side, wearing splendid clothes and furs. The sudden jolt with which Arthur realized that this man was Eric had blended out all other thoughts for a moment. As he felt nausea welling up and his knees buckle the exchange between Leon and Vortigern had been lost on him completely.

On the same day the victorious army had made their grand entrance to Camelot. Led by Vortigern, who had carried the royal insignia, the Saxon royal guard and warrior nobles had entered the castle while the bulk of the army had stayed in the outside camp.

Silently the people of Camelot had watched the entrance. When ordered the castle staff had gone to the camp, to support the Saxon servants in serving the soldiers with bread and wine.

Arthur had been brought back into his home once again tied to a horse. They hadn't bothered to loosen the bonds on his wrists or the painful gag. Vortigern had led the captive's horse himself. Although this had hampered the Saxon King's imperious looks somewhat, everyone in Camelot had got the message: For every offense against the Saxons, Arthur would have to pay.

Nevertheless, Vortigern had thought it necessary to emphasize this even stronger. At their arrival in the throne room he had gripped his prisoner's arm and led him to the balcony that overlooked the great inner court. Arthur, completely withdrawn inside his own self and exhausted to a point of semi-consciousness, had offered no resistance.

Vortigern had kept his statement very simple. "You see that the young Pendragon is at my mercy and I trust that you feel enough loyalty to your old royal house of Queen Igraine to avoid everything that would force me to use this power. Now go back to your tasks, the refugees should back to their homes. The war is over. I am the victor! And, at your own peril and at that of your Prince, I would strongly advise everyone never to forget that!"

Arthur could not remember having been taken down to the dungeons. He did not know whether they had carried or dragged him down to a filthy cell and put his wrists in the iron manacles that chained him to the wall.

As soon as they had left him he had fallen into a death-like sleep that had lasted for many hours. He had been woken by feeling his wrists being freed and his body being lowered to the ground. In the first second he had frantically hoped that somebody had brought Gaius to him, that Merlin was with him and that this nightmare would be over.

But when he had looked up he had seen the face of an old woman in Druid clothes whom he had never seen before. When his eyes had fallen on the obviously magical amulets and signs she wore around her neck and on her face he had tried to back away from her but his body had failed him.

Stiff and sore every muscle and sinew had hurt and the wound in his shoulder that had nearly been healed had throbbed and burned again. Thirst had made his throat ache as if he had been in a sand storm. When they had had him securely chained they had finally removed the gag but nobody had bothered to give him water.

The woman had felt his feeble efforts to back away and smiled at him. "You have nothing to fear from me, young master" she had said with a voice much kinder than her face. "I am here to help you, as King Vortigern gave order not to let your own physician or servants tend to you. Your shoulder wound has opened again and your wrists are cut open to the bone. You must have struggled against your bonds for many an hour, to hurt yourself that much."

From all of this Arthur had only heard that he would neither be allowed out of the cell nor to see his friends anytime soon. Now nothing had seemed to matter anymore. He had fallen back to the floor and let the woman handle him as she liked.

She had treated his shoulder wound, bandaged it and then tended to the deep cuts and sores at his wrists. He didn't even flinch when she used some healing spells nor did he show the relief he felt when the wounds had closed at once and the pain subsided. When she had given him water he had gulped it down hastily until she forced him to drink more slowly.

Leaving him, she had convinced the guards to spare him the manacles and to bring him some food and more water. She had come back the next day, and the day after, telling him with her calm voice that Sir Leon and his knights had been thrown into the upper dungeons, while the soldiers of Camelot's guard were locked up in their barracks and heavily guarded.

He had feigned to ignore her, as he feigned to ignore everyone and everything around him, knowing no other way to keep a last shred of dignity. Only when she had told him that Eric had ordered to confine Gaius, Merlin and a servant girl named Guinivere to Gaius' quarters under constant guard "until further notice", the Prince had raised his head and looked at her.

She had looked into his eyes, lowered her gaze and whispered "I wish I could help you, but I am afraid this wish comes too late."

Then she had left him and had not returned. He had curled up his body into a ball and wished she had told him nothing at all.

In the morning of the fourth day they had taken him back into the main castle. As they reached the familiar stairs that led to his father's chamber he had tried to break free but in his weakened state he had been no match for the two bulky soldiers. With both arms twisted on his back they had dragged him into his father's chamber, to a tapestry covered door in the inner wall and into a narrow corridor which led from the King's bedchamber to the old Queen's suite in the northern tower.


	5. In the northern tower

**Abandoned**

**V. In the northern tower**

In former times the northern tower had had the most luxurious and splendid rooms of all Camelot besides the throne room and the great banquet hall. But when Igraine died, Uther had ordered the main entrance to the tower to be closed by a sold wall, leaving only the small corridor open that once had served as a private way for a young King to visit his beloved Queen.

Everyone had thought that the magnificent rooms had decayed during the 21 years of neglect but when Vortigern had given order to refurnish the spacious main bedchamber on the upper floor, the servants had found the furniture well conserved under thick dust sheets. Even the hangings and tapestries had been stowed away that well that they were still in perfect shape.

It was as if a magical spell had once been casted, to protect the once cheerful room from putrefaction. So, with some cleaning, dusting and airing, the room had quickly regained its old splendour. Only the heavily barred windows, once installed in the hope that Igraine would one day need them to protect children from falling out reduced the room's airy beauty.

When Arthur had been brought into his mother's room by force he had seen it for the first time in his life, as Uther had not allowed him to enter the northern tower. To see it, now, under these circumstances, with the big painting of his mother at the wall, had come as an additional shock to the young Pendragon.

One of the guards had felt his sudden hesitation. "The King couldn't give you back your old room as it isn't secure enough and he did not want you to stay in the dungeon. You see, he has taken the former King's suite of rooms for himself and as the only way to you is through his bed chamber, he found it perfect to have you in here, even this once was a woman's chamber".

Ridiculously, the man had actually seemed to expect an expression of gratitude from the captive Prince. Suddenly, unexpectedly Arthur had felt some of his old pride and defiance coming back to him. Drawing himself upright as best he could, he had snapped at the guard "you can tell your King that I will see the day when he lies in my father's bed with his throat cut and disembowelled."

For that the guard had tried to slap his face but Arthur had jumped at his throat first. In a few minutes the two soldiers had had the weakened young man subdued and pinned down to the floor. They had called for a third guard in the corridor. "It seems that his Excellency Eric was right. The whelp is not as tame as we thought. Bring the chain, will you? It's no use to wrestle with him, he could get injured and then the King would have our heads."

Helpless as he was, Arthur had almost laughed. What a marvellous idea, to tell a prisoner that his jailers were not allowed to hurt him. But when they had forced the manacle round his left ankle and chained it to the wall his defiance and new found courage had left him.

After the guards had locked the door behind them, Camelot's crowned Prince had felt utter shame when tears welled up in his eyes. Soon, numbness and indifference, now already familiar, had once again taken hold of his soul.

Only as night dawned he had begun staring at his mother's picture, trying to cope with the growing fear for his friends, the Kingdom and himself.

During the next weeks only the guards took care of him. They even released the manacle for a few minutes every morning so that he could change into fresh clothes. With two unarmed, but well-muscled guards inside the room, a locked door and at least one fully armed guard outside in the corridor not even the hot-headed Prince thought seriously about escape.

In spite of this logic it was hard to endure the re-fastening of the manacle, harder even to be locked up 24 hours a day, alone and idle. Arthur had always led a very active life, physically and mentally and he had never been left alone. As far as his chain allowed he had inspected the corridor door, the door to the stairs inside the tower, which had been blocked from the outside 21 years ago and the barred windows. Again and again he had tried to find some hope, but it was all too clear that no way of escape had been left open to him.

So, stubborn, proud and robbed of all chances to fight back the young Pendragon carried on ignoring his guards and showed total indifference to their handling of him. But when day changed into night and night into day, he felt his defences weaken. It became harder and harder to cope with the growing fear for his friends and for the future. But the most painful torture of all was his growing inability to dismiss the picture of Uther Pendragon from his mind, of his father riding away without so much as one look at his helpless son's pain, fear and humiliation, after he had delivered him into enemy hands.

Finally, after many sleepless nights, came the day when Arthur could not stand the torture of his own thoughts and his fruitless wrath anymore. He refused to eat for one day, then for two and three until, finally, his captors decided to make it abundantly clear that not even death was an escape route available to the most precious hostage they had ever laid hands on.


	6. Breaking Point

**VI. Breaking point**

When the door was unbolted, Arthur didn't even stir.

However, this time the guards did not take yesterday's food out, mumble under their breath and leave him alone. Instead they gripped his arms and legs and tied them to the bed.

The next thing Arthur felt was a hand gripping his chin, forcing him to look at the man hovering over him. With a jolt he recognized Eric. "Now, my boy, what have we here? Do you really think you could come away from us so easily, hm? Do you? Well, we'll see about that. There are always means to get what we want from you, little one, don't you fear."

Disgusted by the man's touch Arthur tried to turn away from him, but Eric held fast. "Bring in the physician!"

At that the Prince saw Gaius being pushed through the door and towards the bed. Behind him a terrified Merlin wriggled helplessly in the grip of a bulky Saxon soldier. From the bruises and blue swellings in his manservant's face and on his bare chest under the torn shirt the suddenly very awake Arthur could easily gather what had happened to his friend during the last few weeks.

"You see Gaius why we need your expert help here. Our young royal friend is trying to starve himself to death. Now I know there is a method to feed him by force but I think it would be better if your healing hands applied the treatment instead of our rough soldiers here".

Through the haze of his utter horror, Arthur heard Merlin scream. "No, you can't do this to him. You dirty, treacherous pig."

Eric waved his free hand and the soldier that held Merlin pushed the boy to the floor and effortlessly, casually kicked his nailed boot into the young servant's side. Merlin screamed with pain and Gaius, of all people, tried to come between the bulky guard and his injured nephew.

In this second Arthur let go of all hopes for himself, of his pride and of his self-esteem.

With a start he remembered a day when an eight year old, slender Arthur had been injured in the stubborn attempt to defeat the fourteen year old giant son of an earl with a wooden sword. As always, he had been trying to impress his father. As always, Uther had feigned not to have noticed his son's efforts, but had looked very proud and pleased.

Later on, Eric with a harassed and very pale face, had punished the Prince in spite of him being injured with an otherwise unused whip. Of course Arthur had refused to show the pain and terror he had felt at the punishment. When he had faced his sword master defiantly Eric had hugged him with singular ferocity. "Arthur, for all our sakes, you _must_ learn that there are times when a ruler has to put his duty before his pride and abandon a fight he cannot win. That sometimes survival is a better option than glory, even for a King."

Shaking off the reverie, Arthur pulled all his strength together to gain Eric's attention. "Eric? Eric, please stop it. I will eat, I promise. Just leave them alone. I", he swallowed hard to regain control of his fading voice, "I beg of you. Eric, you have been like a father to me once. Please, leave them alone".

Eric let go of Arthur's face and turned to the guards. "You heard him. Now go and fetch some soup and milk." When the guards stared at him he snapped "OUT!" and they hurried away.

"Gaius, tend to the boy's ribs in the King's chamber, will you? I will call for you both again in a few minutes" Eric said, sounding absentminded, never taking his eyes from the young captive.

He unsheathed his dagger and cut the ropes that tied the Prince to the bed. Without opening his eyes Arthur flinched when he suddenly felt, only for a moment, Eric's hard, rough hand on his cheek. "Son, in case you haven't noticed: This was a very brave thing to do. I have always been proud to be a servant to the Pendragons but never as proud as you have made me today. Not even when Uther – but that's a story for another day." With that he left.

A few minutes later, Gaius re-entered the room, followed by a pale but rigidly upright Merlin who at once ran towards Arthur.

Pendragon had somehow made it to the window and now sat on the broad window sill, trying, out of reflex, to regain some composure. Merlin seemed at a loss how to approach his royal friend, and for the first time since his capture Arthur thought of how he might look. For security reasons the window panes had been substituted by hides and all glass mirrors had been taken from the room, but he could read some of his changed appearances from Merlin's face. "Merlin, you might wish to close your mouth, otherwise the flies might mistake it for a room to let!"

Merlin tried to smile but failed. Shaking, he said, "Arthur, I thought I'd never see you again" and suddenly the Prince found himself hugged, hard and recklessly. Albeit he cursed himself for it he abruptly pulled free from Merlin's embrace and turned to Gaius who, after a look in his Prince's face, became all business. "My Lord, how are you? What have they done to you?"

"I'm well enough under the circumstances I think" Arthur replied, obedient to the reflexes of his royal upbringing until the bitter end.

Merlin's despairing snort at that was drowned by Gaius' exasperated voice "I have absolutely no idea how much time they will allow us in here. For all we know it might be a very long time before we are allowed to meet again, so for heaven's sake, _stop behaving as if this was an afternoon party_!" Belatedly he added "Sire!"

Arthur's rigid composure softened. "Forgive me Gaius. Of course I am -" he began to say, when suddenly they heard the door being unbolted again. Arthur's shoulders sank and he closed his eyes, trying, if only for the briefest of moments, to shut out everything that was to come.

At the sight of the two soldiers carrying plates, cups and spoons it was all too clear that they had had the food ready in the King's chamber to be brought in at short notice. Arthur prepared himself for the inevitable order for his friends to leave but the soldiers just put down the food and a pitcher with milk and left, bolting the door behind them.

For a moment none of the three men spoke. Finally Merlin, his usual goofy smile slowly spreading over his face, went to the table. "Now, if that's your reward for making his god dammed Excellency's next daily report to his new master a more pleasant occasion than the last three have been, you better start eating immediately. Who knows, if you finish your plate, tomorrow's sun may still see you being declared King of the realm by an ever so grateful Vortigern!"

Browsing through the food and plates he continued "would you believe it? They even brought enough for Gaius and me!" and he laid out the table for the three of them. He put on the attitude of Arthur's always cheerful manservant so easily that the young Pendragon felt virtually dizzied by a surreal feeling of déjà vu. For the first time ever Arthur wondered whether it was only a role Merlin had chosen to play, for some unknown reasons of his own.

"Sire? My Lord? It might indeed be best if we started eating. Shouldn't we sit down?"

"Trust Gaius to bring your feet back to earth when they have lost contact" Arthur thought while going to the table. Only when he sat down and Merlin busily passed him bread and soup he noticed the unfamiliar silver ring on the young man's throat. It looked as if a silver snake, with a finely chiselled head, jewel eyes and an equally chiselled tail had pulled itself tight around Merlin's neck.

"Gaius, what is this thing around his neck? What does this mean?"

Merlin's happy chatter ended abruptly and instead of answering Arthur's question, Gaius gave his nephew a warning look. Then he made it a point to turn to his Prince. "Sire, with your kind permission, I would very much prefer to discuss this after you have had your first lunch in three days. All the more as, if you don't eat now, the silver snake will be the least of my nephew's worries."

Having looked subsequently into Gaius' worried face and Merlin's suddenly terrified eyes Arthur lowered his head and started to eat.

Naturally his starved stomach revolted after few bites and one cup of milk. Gaius, however, was satisfied, declaring that the short meal would be enough until evening. At that, the soldiers came in as if they had had their ears at the very door. "Has he eaten or not?"

Arthur, indignant that the guards should ignore him, snapped back "of course I have, are you too stupid to see that?"

With a quick step the first soldier gripped his hair, pulling his head back. "Boy, if you were mine to do with as you deserve, I would whip this damned arrogance out of you, once and for all."

As the Prince didn't move, he let go. "It may interest your Royal Highness that, for the duration of your hunger strike, the old man and this walking stupidity here didn't get anything to eat either. Nor did your other so called friends, be they a former head knight or a blacksmith's daughter."

Seeing Arthur wince, he laughed. "You see, we are very well informed on your likes and dislikes. Should you ever ponder to renew your efforts to die, rest assured that your friends will accompany you to your grave or share your punishment, whatever it will be."

He gestured to his companion who gripped Merlin's arm and pushed him towards the table. "Collect the dishes and then out".

Ignoring the guards Merlin waited for Arthur's orders. Only at the Prince's short nod he took the food tray and hurried out. The guards locked the door behind him, leaving Arthur alone with the silent physician.

Pendragon needed a few moments before he found it in him to face the old man. "Gaius, I am sorry. I should have foreseen that they would take it out on you, that Eric would tell Vortigern everything he needs to control me. I know I have no right to beg you or the others for forgiveness, but….. " Surprised by Gaius sudden gesture, as if the old man would slap his face, Arthur broke off in mid-sentence.

"Don't you dare to insult me like that again, Arthur Pendragon, ever, you hear me? You want to beg my forgiveness! Are you really so arrogant, so self-indulged to think that only you can have a sense of duty or honour? So we, the people, are to be protected and supervised by the all mighty Pendragon! What are we, your pet animals? Can you imagine how humiliated I felt when Uther, the man I had felt proud to serve for 25 years, whose life I saved more than once, when this so called King of Camelot deserted us, leaving you, his son, at the tender mercy of this Saxon barbarians and a god dammed traitor? I watched you when they forced you to see your father ride away. I saw the state you were in when they dragged you to the dungeons. I thought you wouldn't survive the night. It made me proud to learn that you did not give up, that you fought back the only way left to you, even if it meant that I was to die with you."

Startled when he felt that Arthur had taken his face in both hands, Gaius' voice trailed off.

"So, you were prepared for your own death, but not Merlin's?" Gaius, only centimetres away from the Prince's intent look, stayed silent. "Can't you understand that I feel exactly the same when I hear that you and the others suffered for something I did only to protect my selfish sense of self-esteem? So you were proud of me fighting back, but I' am afraid I didn't. I tried to desert you, to leave you alone. Just like my father."

Abruptly he let go of Gaius and turned away. "Yes," he repeated, more to himself than to his friend, "like father like son. I fear you wasted your loyalty on a very undeserving bunch of cowards."

After a few moments he heard the physician's reply. "Your Royal Highness will forgive an old man's insolence when I say that I am perfectly capable to choose my own master and to give my loyalty to a man whom I find deserving. And for your information, My Lord, as of today, my allegiance will be with you until I die."

Still facing the window, Arthur swallowed a big lump that seemed to have somehow gotten into his throat. "You know, Gaius, I would never have thought that, when living in captivity, what a Prince misses most would be the ability to simply dismiss a man when things have become over-emotional."

And suddenly all the tension born of the last weeks' fear, despair and pain gave way to an absurd but overwhelming urge to laugh. Arthur was the first who couldn't stop himself, than Gaius' resistance broke.

The two of them collapsed on the edge of the bed under uncontrollable spasms of laughter and they were still laughing when they heard Eric's cutting voice.


	7. Revelations

**VII. Revelations**

"I am glad to see that Your Grace is having an amusing afternoon."

Abruptly sobered Arthur got on his feet, silently cursing himself for not having heard the unbolting of the door.

"And what do you care how I fare?" Inwardly he sneered at himself "Oh, great remark, Arthur Pendragon, that will sent him packing. It's not as if everybody knew that and why they want you alive!"

Eric smiled. "Your Royal Highness seems to be under the misguided impression that I am the villain here. But then, naturally neither a current nor a former ruler of Camelot could ever qualify for the part!"

In spite of all efforts to control himself Arthur felt the reaction to the mentioning of his father's betrayal showing in his face and he knew that Eric could see it.

"Let's leave the banter for now, my boy; I have come with a message from Vortigern." At his captive's sudden alertness, Eric continued. "He's very pleased to hear that you saw reason. In return your physician may tend to you as he sees fit after you starved yourself for three days" - and here Eric smiled again in remembrance of Arthur's famous hatred for Uther's frequent, drawn out late evening banquets - "and nights. Your servants are also allowed to see you. You can inform the guards of your wish to see them. You will understand that this does not include Sir Leon or any of the other Camelot knights or guards."

"Do my restored privileges also include the right to dismiss you from my presence?" Arthur wasn't that easily pressed into submission, not even by as profound a relief as he felt now.

After a long look at Pendragon's haggard face and rigid stand, Eric silently bowed and headed for the still open door with the two soldiers guarding it. In the door, he suddenly turned back. "By the way, I once heard one of your tutors telling you that the ability to give a well-placed retort is as precious a talent in a king as his skill with the sword. He thought you were a hopeless case. I can see now that he was wrong."

When he had left, the Prince let his head fall forward and exhaled audibly before he pulled both hands through his hair. Gaius touched his shoulder. "Sire, after all I did bring my bag, so why not use it? Please lay down on the bed."

The physician started his examination at Arthur's shoulder, glad, if astonished, to find nothing but healthy skin and tissue where the arrow wound had been.

"Gaius?" "What is it?" What did they do to you and the others? Turning his head away, Arthur fought again for self-control, already hating himself for the brief moment in which he had let go. "What did they do to Guinivere?"

Gaius continued the examination. "You know that they locked up Gwen, Merlin and me in my quarters and kept Sir Leon in a cell in the upper dungeons, together with the other knights?"

After Arthur's short nod he continued. "They told us that you had stopped eating and that they would use us to blackmail you out of it. That we would be fed again as soon as you "saw reason".

He smiled at his patient. "There was no special treatment for Gwen, nor some unwelcome attention, if that's what you meant."

Arthur nodded curtly, still not looking at anything in particular. "Was it then and there that they forced this collar or whatever it is on Merlin?"

The physician sighed and sat down on the bed. "Whether it pleases Your Highness or not, but except for some signs of mild malnutrition, which can hardly come as a surprise, you are in perfect health albeit not as fit as you usually are. Your shoulder has healed and your wrists are perfectly all right, what indeed is surprising, regarding the way you have been tied and chained during the first days of your captivity. With whatever magic the Druid woman treated you, you should be grateful to her."

"She told you that?" Arthur didn't believe his ears.

Gaius rose from the bed and thought for a moment. "She also told me that you shied away from her at first and that you surrendered to her care only because it didn't matter to you whether you lived or died."

"You spoke to her? Just like that?" Arthur insisted, still unbelieving.

"Actually she spoke to me after she had seen you in the dungeon. Merlin was with me, still suffering from the head wound he had received in the vaults. While Vortigern's men were taking control of Camelot" - Gaius ignored Arthur's fist hammering on the bed - "the Druid woman told me that the Saxon hadn't come alone. The leaders of the Druids were with him. So were Morgause – and Morgana."

Arthur bolted from the bed. "Morgana? Morgana is here? Why...? How...? I thought…."

Nervous at Arthur's raised voice Gaius laid his hands on the Princes shoulders. "Sire? Sire, _calm down_ or we'll both end up in the dungeons for good. I'll give you the rest in a nutshell. Now listen to me and listen carefully: Morgana is Morgause's half-sister, and, like Merlin, they both have a natural gift for magic."

Arthur shouted "Merlin has what?" only to be interrupted by an increasingly desperate Gaius "Oh do shut up, Arthur! Now, were was I? Oh yes, Morgana feared that Uther would kill her when he found her out, so she sided with her sister who eventually took her to her castle when you and Merlin defeated the knights of Iodain. Due to your father's little genocide at the Druids, Morgause could hammer out the first alliance of all Druid tribes in centuries, of course under her benevolent leadership. It was the Pendragons' survival or theirs and their families'. When Morgause heard that Vortigern had landed for some lucrative pillaging, it was a heaven sent to her. She persuaded him to join her cause, promising him the dominion of Camelot at Uther's death. Vortigern betrayed her when he let Eric persuade him to let Uther ride away freely, but improved his chances to appease the realm when he send the 15 noble brats back to their treacherous baron fathers. For Morgana your safety had been the most important part of the mission anyway, so she sided with Vortigern, as his bargain with Uther had delivered you into their hands alive and free of charge. She persuaded her sister to forgive her Saxon ally on the condition that his first deed as King would be to abolish Uther's laws on magic. For this he plans to force you to back him up. As all these nice little schemes wouldn't work if a certain powerful young warlock" - he did not react to Arthur unbelievingly shaking his head - "would use his magic to transport you to greener pastures they sent the Druid woman to force the silver snake around Merlin's neck while he was still too weak to fight back. The precious little necklace was especially designed to keep a magician from exercising magic – now have you heard enough?"

Exhausted, Gaius sat once more down on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

Seconds, than minutes ticked away while the Prince stood stunned and Gaius tried to prepare himself for the inevitable outburst. When he could not stand it anymore he despondently touched Arthur's arm. "Sire, please forgive me, I shouldn't have spoken to you like this, I..."

Slowly, very slowly Arthur turned his head to look into the old physician's imploring face. "So it was really Uther's irrational fear of magic and his cruelty that destroyed us?"

Gaius nodded, evading Arthur's eyes.

"And Merlin didn't lie when he said he was protecting me? The stupid idiot risked being burned alive at my father's orders – for my sake?" Again Gaius nodded.

"Gaius?"

"Yes, Sire?"

"Did I ever tell you that you have an absolutely singular definition of what a nutshell might be?"


	8. Too much at stake

**VIII. Too much at stake**

Arthur spend another sleepless night in the now all too familiar window sill.

After his long speech Gaius had abruptly turned to the door, banging against the wood until the guards had let him out.

The young Prince hadn't tried to stop him, sympathizing with the old man's embarrassment. He had declined the offer to have his servants called back to the room. He felt he needed some time before he saw the "powerful young warlock" again. So he had eaten alone, forcing down as much food and milk as possible, until his jailers were satisfied.

Pendragon let his thoughts flow freely, trying to come to terms with what Gaius had revealed to him. At the thought of how many times Merlin might have saved his life, risking a horrible death at Uther's always ready stakes, he felt more ashamed than ever before in his life. For a moment he wished he'd never see his friend again, before shame at this base thought added to his already vitriolic feeling of guilt.

In the early hours of dawn he started to think about what Vortigern might hold in store for him. The emotional turmoil draining from his thoughts, his mind found back to the calculating, strategic thinking his father had taught him. Unfortunately he forgot the conscience and dedication which were also part of his heritage.

Merlin slipped in through the door the next morning and it was all too obvious that he knew of Gaius' revelations. While he helped the Prince to wash and dress, the two young men awkwardly avoided to look at each other. Only when the guards went to refasten the manacle around Arthur's ankle Merlin risked a furtive glimpse at his royal friend's carefully controlled face.

Eric cut the guards short. "This can wait! King Vortigern wants to see him in the throne room. His Grace is convinced that he has captured a Prince, so we better make sure that he isn't confronted with a dishevelled savage. Go and fetch the razor knife."

While one of the soldiers hurried out, Eric raised a pair of handcuffs to Arthur's eyes. "Do we need those or will you hold still without them? Of course" – he casually pointed at Merlin – we could chain him down with a knife at his throat, to spare your aristocratic wrists the inconvenience."

Arthur's mouth went dry. "I take it you do not want to grant the barber's pleasure to yourself, so you better pass the knife to Merlin. And please do not insult my intelligence by implying I would try to fight the whole Saxon guard with a razor knife."

Eric cocked his brow. "I feared more for Your Highness' own throat."

Silently Arthur sat down on one of the chairs. Eric pushed the bowl with the shaving set to Merlin. "Serve your master. And make sure he eats a bite. I will be back in half an hour."

Self-conscious of the two guards who remained in the room the two prisoners finished shaving and breakfast in silence. Immediately afterwards Merlin was pushed out of the room. Then the soldiers forced the Prince to his feet, twisted his arms on his back and tied his wrists with leather ropes, just in time for Eric's return.

After he had been kept in the tower for almost two months the sight of the castle's familiar surroundings seemed unreal. Arthur willingly followed Eric's lead. Nobody was to be seen in the corridors and passages. Reaching the throne room Eric handed over his captive to the guards who knocked at the door, then he pushed Pendragon forward. "The prisoner, My Lord".

The tall, grey haired man who had been sitting on Uther's throne rose and stepped down, his light grey eyes never leaving the young man. Arthur gritted his teeth when the Saxon roughly pulled up his wrists to check the bonds. Obviously satisfied he dismissed the guards.

Hearing a female voice's outraged cry the Prince felt a small hand on his shoulder and suddenly looked into Morgana's scandalized face. "What have you bastards done to him? How dare you mistreat him? Didn't I give order to spare him at any costs?"

Horrified, Arthur watched her eyes flash golden. An unnatural, icy gust of wind stormed through the room and Vortigern flew back as if he had been kicked in the guts.

"Morgana, please, stop it. This won't help, they'll only take it out on the hostages. Please, Morgana, for my sake!"

When the wind died down and the Saxon King pulled himself upright Arthur leaned his face on Morgana's head. "Thanks, little sister."

Without a further word she briefly hugged him and headed for the room's smaller back door. Passing the Saxon King she hissed something unintelligible at him which made the man bending in an only partly derisive bow when she left the room.

"I fear I am at a disadvantage now. It doesn't make me look intimidating when I have to thank you at our first encounter. By the way, I may call you Arthur, may I not?" Vortigern rubbed his sore chest.

"Oh please, by all means, if I may call you coward."

Grinning unabashed, the King cocked his head. "I should have known that a gallant Prince would call it cowardice to conquer a prosperous realm with a minimum of bloodshed and destruction to exactly the prosperity people rely upon for their survival, conquerors and conquered alike. But then we do not all have Master Uther's fortune to meet an unmarried Queen foolish enough to marry a foreign mercenary."

The cutting remark hit its intended mark in the young man's soul, leaving him momentarily breathless.

"However, we have more important things to talk about. My allies, and, what's more, my enemies assure me that, in the eyes of your people, you _are_ Camelot, more than your father ever was. To achieve obedience I should ensure your official consent to my measures. This means that I need you alive, at my mercy and subjugated to my will for everyone to see."

Arthur's voice was hoarse with apprehension of what was inevitably to come now. "Isn't it obvious enough that this is already the case?"

Vortigern lifted a document from the table and held it up. Outwardly unmoved the Prince read what the careful calligraphy of Camelot's chief secretary had written out. He was meant to "humbly" address Camelot's crown council and the barons' assembly in a public ceremony, to declare his father a traitor to the realm unworthy of an honourable man's company, to proclaim his own entitlements as Crown Prince forfeited by his father's desertion and to swear absolute subjugation under Vortigern's rule, for himself and for the realm. Subsequently the Saxon would most graciously grant him his life. In return Arthur would submit himself willingly to every treatment of his person the new King might see fit.

"This is madness, Vortigern, and well you know it. This declaration would destroy the very thing you want to achieve. A hostage so utterly disgraced would be worthless to you, to anybody."

The other shook his head. "No one will believe you mean it, anyway. Nevertheless, everyone will know that even the gallant Prince Pendragon sees no way to fight me. It will rob them of their hopes. And they will fancy that they submit to me only to save you. It will furnish them with the perfect excuse to surrender to their own cowardice. But leave the mass psychology to me. Will you do it?"

Knowing the answer in advance, Arthur asked the obvious question. "What if I refuse?"

Vortigern rolled his eyes and sighed in mocked frustration. Then he gripped his captive's neck and pushed him towards the window, pointing down at the centre of the court yard. The Prince felt all strength draining from his body. His throat burned with bile that rose from his stomach at the sight of Sir Leon and his younger sister tied to the stake of a pyre, surrounded by two ranks of Saxon soldiers with burning torches in their hands.

With an enigmatic face Vortigern watched shudders running down his captive's spine. "40 knights with their families your father had recruited for you to command, 15 from the high aristocratic houses for political reasons and 25 from lesser noble families, for their skill and commitment alone. The 15 I let go, 12 you lost during the siege, so we have 12 knights in the dungeons and their families confined in the castle, besides your friend Leon. The council and the baron's assembly will come together 12 days from now. That makes one pyre bonfire every evening from now until then and we haven't even begun to throw the soldiers and their families into the game who are kept in the barracks." He sighed. "You know you will yield long before then. Why not do it now and save your friends?"

Again the young man knew the answer to his question in advance. "Does Morgana know about this?"

Vortigern saw the skin on the Prince's neck ripple as he whispered into Arthur's ear. "Don't you think there is a reason for old Gaius and the blacksmith's daughter being spared? Or your pet magician with the pretty dark blue eyes?"

He didn't look especially surprised when that got him the answer he wanted. He gestured to the soldiers to cut the prisoners off, allowing the Prince to see them being brought back into the castle.

Having been led back to his prison by a silent Eric and once again chained, Arthur leaned his back against the wall and let himself slid to the floor. Hugging his knees he laid his head on his arms. "I can't. It's too much. I can't. What shall I do? Oh, heaven help me, what shall I do?" he repeated in his mind over and over again.

With a loud, desperate moan he banged the back of his head against the wall and saw Merlin's sympathetic eyes. He hadn't heard his friend enter. Without thinking he said "Merlin, I have been such a fool. When all was well I forced you to hide your magic. Now that I am in desperate need of it you can't help me. This time nobody will. What shall I do? Oh Gods, what shall I do?"

The young warlock, who in his mind had imagined many ways Arthur would one day cope or not cope with the knowledge of his servant's magic abilities, had never expected such a random acceptance. However, he decided he could live with this acceptance very well. Concentrating on the situation at hand, he pretended to ponder the question for a second, than he smiled in his unique way. "There's nothing for it. Get the ceremony over with and then wait for an opportunity to buy a disembowelling knife."


	9. Waiting

**IX. Waiting**

Merlin had persuaded his Prince to eat up the food he had brought, if only to keep the jailers of their hair.

Making a good show of chatting happily away as if there were no care in the world he had told Arthur how one of the guards had come to Gaius to have his swollen eye treated. Knowing only that Gaius was a physician he had blubbered out the whole story of the arrogant royal brat whom he would teach in time not to threaten the great Vortigern with cut throats and disembowelment.

Conveniently leaving out the more uncomfortable parts of the story, like his friends worrying sick about what the defenceless Prince would have to suffer from the madman's "teaching", Merlin actually succeeded in making Arthur laugh.

When the guards had last checked in on their prisoner, they had found both young men seemingly fast asleep with Merlin lying on some piled carpets in front of the bed. Miraculously they had chosen not to disturb them. Exhaustion driven away by the immense relief of not being forced to spent this night alone, torturing himself with apprehension, Arthur had demanded to know every detail of what had happened to the warlock and especially Guinivere since the night in the vaults.

This way he had learned that Morgana had informed Gaius and his friends that, why and how Vortigern planned to wrench the subjugation oath from his hostage and that she had fled crying from the ensuing row with the old man. When Merlin had finished his report the Prince had been quiet for a long while.

Thinking that nature had taken her revenge for many a sleepless night and exasperating days the magician had curled up on the other side of the huge bed to find some sleep himself.

"Merlin, does it... hurt, somehow?"

"Does what hurt?"

"I mean, your necklace, collar or what you call it, this thing around your neck that paralyzes your magic. Does it hurt?"

"No it doesn't really hurt, it's only – oh for heaven's sake, we never spoke about my magic, why start now?"

Arthur's warm voice didn't change. "Because I would like to know more about it."

Merlin tossed around a while. "Well, I think you miss your daily sword exercise, the hunting trips, the riding, all that comes so natural to you. Being caged in here makes you ache for action, for freedom to do all these things again. It's the same for me. My magic being natural to me, it being suppressed feels as if a part of me was... buried alive somehow and yes, in a way this hurts."

The Prince sighed softly. "I'm sorry for having you brought into all this. You haven't had much reward from serving the Pendragons. I wish I could..."

When the voice trailed off, Merlin turned around. "Arthur, I …."

He saw the other man's face staring to the ceiling, jaws strained and the eyes suspiciously radiant.

Pretending not to have noticed anything the warlock curled up again and feigned to sleep.

On the next morning the guards had dragged the magician out and in spite of Eric's earlier promises he hadn't been allowed back again except for two brief visits with Gaius. They had not been permitted to speak more than some routine questions and answers regarding Arthur's health.

By now the Prince had gathered that the tide of privileges being restored and withdrawn was meant to wear him out further. However, for fear of repercussions against the others as well as of being held in total isolation again, he had not protested.

The days had dragged on until the much dreaded date of the great assembly had come.


	10. A most noble assembly

**X. A most noble assembly**

Even if Pendragon had not been counting the days it would have been clear what was on the shelf this morning.

It weren't the guards who pushed in Merlin with clothes and the shaving set. The relief Arthur felt when he saw that Eric had correctly guessed that his captive would not be able to stomach any food today was quickly crushed at the sight of the clothes in Merlin's hand. The very same set that had been made especially for his coming-of-age ceremony, when he had been proclaimed Crown Prince by his father. Only the red royal coat was missing.

"Eric chose them special, it wasn't me."

Arthur nodded. "I know."

"You both know the routine" Eric cut in. "Make haste but do not forget that he must look his best today."

Forcing down the sting of being treated like a prize mare, Arthur let them handle him, trying to pretend to himself that he was somewhere else as long as possible. Obediently he crossed his wrists behind his back for Eric to tie him up. Hearing Eric's order, he went out, Merlin's whispered "Good Luck!" in his ears.

They halted in front of the great banquet hall's main entrance. Arthur inhaled deeply when Eric and a Saxon knight of high rank at Vortigern's court unsheathed their swords and held them up at both sides of the prisoner, gripping his arms from behind with their left hands. Then the high doors were opened and the sounds and movements in the vast hall engulfed him.

Blinded by the bright afternoon sunlight which streamed through the huge south western glass windows Arthur fought to keep his head erect. At any costs he wanted to avoid the impression that he shied away from the huge council board he knew to be standing at the far end of the hall, right in front of the massive throne where no doubt Vortigern had taken seat.

The council members would be placed at the board, with the 15 most powerful barons and the four lord mayors of the realm's urban settlements sitting at heavy tables which stood right and left from the aisle that ran through the hall's centre up to the throne. The aisle would be flanked by two rows of the King's knights with their swords drawn as a symbol for their commitment to protect the high assembly's safety and order with their lives. Behind the table rows servants would be waiting with wine, water and food for the nobility.

When his eyes adjusted Arthur saw that he had guessed correctly. Eric or one of Uther's other "trusted" advisers must have told the Saxons exactly how things were done in Camelot.

"It didn't need much to make Camelot virtually jump under the conquerors' heels" the Prince thought sarcastically, just before the herald's fanfares and his announcement drowned all other thoughts. "Presented to the high and honorable assembly by his Majesty King Vortigern: Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther Pendragon, the traitor."

Scared and nervous, Arthur missed what Vortigern heard and saw at once. As soon as the herald's powerful voice resounded through the hall, an eerie silence fell over the crowd. The casual chattering, the laughter, the jokes and the comfortable eating and drinking the new King had needed all morning to inspire in his new realm's elites subsided.

As if they were one man, the barons and mayors rose to their feet, facing the entrance. After a second the council members followed suit, without so much as looking at Vortigern.

The King silently thanked his predecessor for having put the throne on an elevated platform; otherwise he and Morgana, who sat at his side, would have been effectively out of sight. The Saxon scrutinized the onlookers' faces when his young hostage, head erect and outwardly emotionless, was marched down the aisle, unmistakable with his blond hair and the clothes many recognized from the proclamation made only 15 months ago.

Some of the barons had heard from their sons that they had seen Arthur being left behind in the enemy camp. From others they had heard that the Crown Prince's freedom and life had been pledged to bail out Camelot from total destruction by the abetted Druids and their Saxon allies. That now, the danger to their people being finished, the magicians would withdraw, leaving Camelot and Pendragon's heir to Vortigern. The barons had spread the rumours by trying to get confirmation. Messengers had ridden to and fro between the big estates and the city councils, who all were busy to repair the damage caused by the Saxon army's initial attacks. Nobody had known what the policy should be, whether to raise an army or to hold still, as nobody knew whether the man who was their Prince much more than his father had ever been their King was alive or dead.

At the sight of his bound hands, haggard face and loosely fitting clothes angry murmurs rose. Suddenly Morgana's flattering speeches and profitable promises, which had almost won some of the nobles, seemed not as convincing as before. Remembering that they had forsaken the Pendragons at the first sight of serious trouble and that Uther, before he vanished, had kept their sons safe but not his own began to hurt.

When his guards forced Arthur to kneel before council board and throne the angry voices became louder. Eric, who hadn't been recognized in the Saxon chain mail and helmet, lowered his sword while stepping back from the prisoner. He held it only millimetres over the exposed neck and the murmur subsided.

Arthur was oblivious to the sudden wave of sympathy. As soon as the guards let go of his arms he sat back, settling comfortably on his heels and pointedly lifted his chin, refusing to look at the board or the throne.

Hearing the crowd stir again and chuckle at the defiant gesture, Vortigern waved for the council's chief clerk to begin the ceremony. The old man stumbled to Arthur's side and faced the assembly. He cleared his throat once, then twice and fumbled with the parchment in his slightly trembling hands.

Softly, almost inaudibly Arthur said "Calm down, Mercurio. Let's get it over with." The point of Eric's sword fell ever so lightly down on the prisoner's neck but Arthur felt it nevertheless.

Mercurio read out the subjugation oath as well as Arthur's personal submission as Vortigern's captive. Gasps of horror came from the crowd and the barons who sat next to the council board turned towards the throne. However they stepped back when they saw the Prince flinch as both swords at once pressed hard between his shoulder blades.

The Saxon knights took their swords in a grip more suitable to wield them when Vortigern shouted "ORDER!" Suddenly it wasn't clear anymore whether the knights protected the assembly or guarded it. Unsure of what to do best, the assembly reluctantly came back to order.

Vortigern turned to the kneeling Prince. "Pendragon, you have been presented to this most noble assembly to repent for the crimes of desertion and treason which have been done to this realm. The oath you have heard is the only declaration the crown council sees fit under the circumstances. However, the laws of the lands oblige the crown to ask the assembly's opinion on your case. The final decision whether you are going to live or to die under the sword therefore depends on your behaviour and the assembly's decision." As some faces paled and others got thoughtful there was no doubt that the message had been understood.

Fighting down the almost overwhelming urge to silently plead with his foster sister who stood so near Arthur drew a deep breath. With a voice surprisingly loud and clear in his own ears Camelot's Crown Prince began to speak. "I, Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther, request this honourable and most noble assembly to hear my confession and oath to the high and mighty King and leaders of this realm. I swear and declare..."

At the sound of the familiar words, Vortigern fell back in his seat, looking at Morgana's pale face.

However, this was as far as Arthur was willing to stick to the original text. "I acknowledge the fact that King Vortigern's army has effectively occupied my father's realm, that King Uther is absent from his throne without having named a regent and that therefore I, as the Crowned Prince of Camelot, are the lawful regent of the realm during my father's absence."

Feeling the sword points cut through his clothes and press into his skin he spoke faster. "In this capacity I do declare, calling on the honourable council members and the most noble lords of the assembly to witness my words, that I offer peace to King Vortigern and his Druid allies as well as obedience, for me and for the realm, to the Kings authority as granted in all laws which are passed by King Vortigern, this assembly and council in compliance with the sacred traditions of Camelot, until my father returns or his death is proved beyond all doubt."

At Vortigern's sharp gesture, Eric and his companion lessened the pressure of their swords.

Hiding his relief, Arthur closed his statement. "For this I pledge my life, my honour and my freedom at His Grace's hands, to do with as he pleases _if_ I or anyone in my realm should break this solemn oath. My Lord Vortigern, if you accept this oath, I will stay in your hold as you see fit until you or death will release me."

In the confused silence that followed these words, Vortigern, who had never ceased to watch the faces around him, stepped down from the throne. Ceremoniously he pulled his exhausted hostage upright and embraced him twice, then he faced the crowd. "With this assembly's permission, I declare myself completely satisfied with this declaration and I gladly accept the rule over this realm under the rightful laws of the land."

First hesitantly than louder and louder the relieved crowd applauded and through the cheers the King unsheathed his dagger and cut through the bonds that tied Arthur's wrists. Gripping his shoulders he turned the Prince to also face the crowd. "Let all enmities be forgotten when this noble assembly comes together again for tomorrow's session. As for now, I request the Lady Morgana to honour Camelot by presiding over tonight's festivities."

With that he laid his arm around Arthur's shoulders, gestured to Eric to follow them and, relying on an old tradition that nobody was allowed to leave the hall before the King's parade had cleared the floor, he left the hall in the official parade of a Camelot ruler, escorted by the knights who had flanked the aisle.

Passing the cheering faces on the slow and graceful way out, Camelot's proud and gallant Prince, brought up with stories and values of knightly honour, loyalty and noble truth had a rare moment of clarity. Nobody here would actually _fight_ for him. As long as the Saxon left their properties and privileges intact, lip-serviced them, flattered them, they all would simply order their clerks and heralds to substitute Uther's name and crest with Vortigern's. It wouldn't even trouble their consciences. In the end they would believe themselves that they had brought great sacrifices to keep poor helpless Arthur safe. Oh, the assembly would detach a delegation to the King, to beseech him most humbly to grant a most gracious release or, if that wouldn't be the King's pleasure, a captivity at honourable terms, knowing all the way that it was in everyone's best interest if Arthur stayed alive, imprisoned and under Vortigern's sword to all eternity.

Feeling the shoulders under his arm shudder Vortigern followed Arthur's gaze. Graciously smiling to one side, than to the other he whispered "I told you they needed only an excuse to submit to me. I know the lesson of abandonment tastes bitter but I never knew royalty who had been spared it. Today you have saved Camelot _and_ the honour of the Pendragons. What does a little hurt pride matter?"


	11. Trapped

**XI. Trapped**

Outside the hall Vortigern let go of Arthur. "Come with me. You too, Eric. Morgana is more than capable to guard these sheep in wolf's furs."

With a nod Vortigern dismissed the escort before he turned to the "King's office", a spacious, comfortable room on the main castle's first floor. On their arrival the Saxon faced the young Prince of Camelot. "Well, my boy I think you have won the two of us a realm today. You know of course that by the sacred traditions of Camelot no law can be passed without the lawful regent's signature. So much for me doing with you as I please. Seems you have effectively bound my hands."

He grinned while he opened a bottle of wine and reached for a glass. "Someone wanting to join me?"

Disbelievingly Arthur watched the man making himself comfortable in his father's favourite chair. Eric watched him too, face unreadable. "Why am I here? Shouldn't your precious prize be locked away again, where it is safe?"

"Oho, it speaks! I'm glad to see you're still fighting utter depression, it shows your guts. No, my boy," and with that he lifted himself from the chair to settle down on the edge of the huge desk in front of the window, comfortably swinging the wine in his glass. "I do be afraid your lazy tower days are over. Your Highness may be as gracious as to recall that somewhere in your most impressive speech down there words fell like 'I, the Crown Prince of Camelot' and 'lawful regent'. Now, that you have me outmanoeuvred, and brilliantly at that, the other side of the coin is that I need you back at work. When I and your beautiful foster sister will open tomorrow's assembly session we will kindly announce two things: First, in implementation of today's decision of the great assembly the crown council has beseeched me to name you Co-regent in all non-military matters of state. You will understand of course that I do not intend to make the son of my enemy, who is, by the way, my humble prisoner and hostage by his own declaration, the commander of my army. I will most graciously grant this request and the assembly will most graciously acknowledge it. And second, we will announce our wedding to take place on Beltain evening here in Camelot. I trust you'll agree to be my best man."

Smiling radiantly with the face of a cat that ate the cream Vortigern waited for this to hit home.

"Your... You mean...You...Morgana... You mean you and Morgana are to be married?"

"Yes, my boy, bravo, now you've got it, and so fast. Me and the only woman who comes at least near to the title of a Princess of Camelot. It will please the assembly, backup my claim to the rule of this land even stronger and it will no doubt be the perfect opportunity to loosen up your chains a bit. I know they are already suffocating you and I am not speaking only about this manacle fastening your ankle to the wall. "

"Are you telling me that you'll force my sister to your bed to bail me out of that?"

Before Vortigern could reply Eric cut in. "It will be a marriage in name only. He doesn't like to do it with women, if you follow my drift."

Vortigern grinned and shrugged his shoulders, gulping down the last of his wine.

"Then why marry at all?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Arthur! He told you the reasons. Besides, you above all people must rely on this special portion of beans never being spilled. You have been his prisoner day and night for two months, locked up, in chains and with a knife to the throat of every single friend you ever had, only ten steps away from his bed chamber. Have you looked into a mirror lately? Hasn't anyone ever told you how handsome you are? If the truth came out where would the reputation of Camelot's Co-Regent go?"

Silently pondering this last remark, Arthur felt his stomach twist and his throat constrict while he stared disbelievingly at the two others. "You really had it all planned, hadn't you? So _that's _why it had to be the northern tower. Should I ever turn against you in the future you would spread rumours about this, how I bought my sudden exultation to Co-Regent and my most gracious release from strict captivity to honourable confinement at the expense of some pleasurable nights with my captor in my own parents' marital bed!"

Eric didn't evade his accusing eyes. "Not everybody would be stupid enough to believe it and even those who believed it wouldn't think that you had a choice in the matter. At least not all of them would. But yes, the fact that you were a handsome boy in the hands of someone of Vortigern's power and inclination would be an additional asset under the right circumstances."

The Saxon rose and went for the door. "Well, look at it this way. We wouldn't always want to tie Sir Leon to the stakes if you chose to become temperamental, would we? Therefore we need something more subtle to blackmail you."

Passing the shaken Prince he briefly laid his hand on the squared shoulder. When Arthur jerked away from his touch his face grew stern. "Your Highness must learn to differentiate between politics and personal matters. I may pretend to be a brutal swine. But that doesn't necessarily mean that I _am_ one. Never forget that. You have indeed been completely in my power and this was your only protection."

Reaching the door he turned to Eric. "You better take him back. He has had a long day and an even longer one lies ahead of him. Tomorrow afternoon my Co-Regent and I will lift Uther's ban on magic and in the evening my Druid allies will give a feast for the happy bridal couple. Let's hope the army of sorcerers will vanish to the Elfish lands with the last toast, never to be beheld again by a human soul. Dear God'" he yawned, "I do be tired" and out he went.

Eric stood up and took Arthur's arm. "Let's go, son" but Arthur pulled free. "I wish you wouldn't call me that. You are not my father, although, like Gaius, you helped to bring me up."

Losing some of his forced composure he stared into Eric's face. "Why you? Of all my father's trusted friends, why you?"

"You're sure you want to know? You may not like the answer."

"Try me!"

Eric sat down on the table at Arthur's side. "We were trapped, Arthur, all of us. Even you, albeit you didn't know it at the time. Hopelessly, helplessly trapped, as much as you are now. Your father's insane fight against magic had brought us there, it had been his fault. When Morgana came, for your sake and for the sake of Camelot, to warn him of the coalition her sister had brought together he didn't even listen. She had to use her magic to escape his sword."

He looked up, directly into the intent Pendragon eyes. "But then we were vastly outnumbered, our resources melted away, our men died like flies and no help, anywhere. When you were wounded and Merlin brought you to Gaius' ad hoc hospital I called your father to your bed. At the sight of you, the blood, you being only half conscious and your servant repeating again and again that it had all been his fault, that he had forsaken you, something gave away in Uther, I could see it in his face. Rising from your bedside he murmured something to himself, like "it's like she said. This time they would stop at nothing, not even at my son." He ordered me to follow him and it was in this very room, far away from the tumult of the battle, that he told me all about Morgana's warning and that his death was the Druid's and Morgause's priority objective. We both knew Vortigern quite well..."

At Arthur's surprised outcry he held up his hand. "Please hear me out. Your father, I and Vortigern once served together, as very young knights, under a Saxon warrior King on the continent. When he died after a few years Vortigern threw himself in the ensuing struggle for the spoils of his rule. Uther and I went off for Albion. The rest of your parents' story you know."

He rubbed his eyes. "Anyway, it was clear that Vortigern would be our best chance. He could be bought while the others could not. And indeed, when we met him he had made sure that Morgana, not Morgause, represented the Druids during the talks. First of all, your father tried to bargain you out. But Vortigern had nothing to gain from Uther's death alone. If Camelot was to be spared it had to be ruled by Vortigern and for that a young, vibrant Prince to centre an insurrection around was not an option either. So, for Camelot's safety and future, it was your life _or_ your freedom. Your father was weak enough to choose your life. After that, we hammered out the final deal very quickly. Originally I was meant to lure you and your magical friend into the trap. Then Morgana would use her magic to take you into Vortigern's camp. But your father would hear nothing of that. He insisted that it must be him who delivered you into Vortigern's hands and that you should know that it had been him who had betrayed you. Vortigern promised to grant your life, but nothing more. Knowing you _and_ him, it was foreseeable what you were going to. I didn't understand it then and I do not understand it now, why Uther had to add this last cruelty to your predicament."

Arthur bit his lip. "I think, I do. He wanted me to know that he'd never come back, that all we have had was finished. So that vain hope would not break me."

Eric slightly shook his head. "Perhaps. Anyway, he didn't tell me. After he went down to the vaults to meet you and Merlin, I never spoke to him again. I rode back to the enemy camp together with your captors. Actually I rode behind you, but I doubt you saw me there or anything else at that matter. In that moment I was sure that we would lose you together with everything else. Your father must have ordered Leon to bring the regalia to Vortigern. The rest you know."

The older man pulled himself upright. "Well, we should go now. It's back to the cage for both of us. Let's hope today's events will convince Vortigern to grant you permission to move back into your old room tomorrow."

"Wait...please."

"What now?"

"Where is my father? What happened to him?"

"You must believe me, my boy that I do not know. He gave his word to Vortigern and your sister that, at your peril, he would leave Albion for good. For old times' sake Vortigern arranged for Uther to accompany the 15 noble brats back home, after I and Morgana had persuaded the Saxon to get rid of them for the peace of the realm. It would have been too dangerous to keep them in the castle."

Walking back to the northern tower through the still oddly deserted passages Arthur got one last burning question off his soul. "What of my friends and my men? What will become of them?"

Eric cocked a brow. "I would think that that depends on you."

Seeing the young man pale at the implication he added "I mean, as Co-Regent it will be your task to persuade Vortigern to trust them enough to release them to resume their former tasks and then you must convince your friends and your men that it would be in everybody's best interest not to disembowel the King of Camelot."

On their arrival in the tower chamber the guards went to refasten the manacle around Arthur's leg but Eric cut them short. "This will no longer be necessary." Looking at Arthur he said "I think we have an understanding now."


	12. Balinor Castle

**XII. Balinor castle**

10 years later Arthur, King of Camelot, was once more on progress through his realm, as always accompanied by his Court Magician Merlin and by his adopted sister, the Dowager Queen Morgana.

Until two years ago he had also been in the company of the retired court physician Gaius as well as of Camelot's first minister and Lord Privy Seal Eric. However, they had passed away in the space of three months, much mourned by all their friends and kinfolk. When at home Merlin often went down to the castle crypt to visit his beloved uncle's grave.

After much celebration on the barons' castles and cities, the young King and his Queen Guinivere took the road back to Camelot. As was their custom since Arthur's succession to the throne they paused at the castle of Balinor.

Drenched to the bones by a sudden rainstorm the royal party decided to stay the night. They had never done this before while on progress and Merlin, being proud of his private home which had been Arthur's present when he had proclaimed him Court Magician, virtually grew a centimetre or two when they praised his furnishings. Normally as conscious of his composure and dignity as his King, the Court Magician wasn't beyond some human vanity and enthusiasm when it came to his home or family.

While Merlin's mother Hunith supervised the preparations for dinner, many a courtier jumped at the opportunity to make amends to the young warlock. The King hadn't reacted very friendly to rumours of arrogant nobles sneering at the former manservant's relationship with the Dowager Queen and her son, Mordred Vortigernsson.

While Lord Leon, the Pendragon's Master of Horses and head knight, organized the accommodation of the virtual herd of animals, people and train that belonged to a royal progress like flies belong to horse muck the royal couple retired to their rooms to "freshen up". Merlin, always siding with his friends, inwardly translated this as "getting rid of the whole idiocracy for a while".

After a splendid dinner the King decided to postpone the visit at King Vortigern's tomb until next morning and the whole lot, extremely grateful for one evening without further "entertainments", fell into their beds.

"Thank God, it's over for another year" Morgana yawned when she cuddled against Merlin in front of their private sitting room's fireplace.

"Have you found to your late husband's religion or where does the monotheistic exclamation come from?" Merlin took her in his arms and they both were silent for a moment.

"Merlin, I checked the date twice. Tomorrow would be the day to commemorate Uther's death for the tenth time. Isn't it odd that, with the rainstorm and the delay on Berengar's castle and everything, Arthur is going to visit Vortigern's grave exactly ten years after Uther was murdered by my sister? After all I think my brother accepted the Saxon as his second father after a while."

Abruptly pulling himself free, Merlin got up. "Your brother Arthur has never been overly pampered by kind and tender fatherly love. So why shouldn't he have loved even this brutal swine you married?"

"Vortigern was no swine, as you damn well know."

"Yes I know, I know everything. It was the resilient grain and the agricultural methods we imported from his continental realm which enabled Camelot to prosper and to sustain his huge army at the same time. His ships we used to establish our external trade and his army assured access to coastal cities and harbours, first under Vortigern's, then under Arthur's command. But I will never forget, nor forgive what he did to Arthur or to all the others, never, you hear me, never!"

Morgana also rose and took him back in her arms. "That's not really the reason, is it? He claimed your son to be his own, that's what's nagging at you."

Merlin leaned back into her embrace and closed his eyes. "The boy loved him so much, he still does. It's always 'my father the late King' here and 'my father the late King' there. He doesn't even see me."

Morgana kissed his hair. "Five years ago, a week after Vortigern's death, you and my brother agreed that the boy should never know you are his father. It was you who allowed Arthur to name him his heir when Gaius and the assembled council of the Druid healers confirmed that Guinivere would never give birth to a living child."

Merlin sighed. "It pleased the Saxon nobility and it almost killed Gwen. Wouldn't it be a nice change to live in a world where family is family and politics are politics?"

"Forget it, my sweetheart such a world is not for us. We both worked too hard to make Arthur King and Guinivere his Queen. We schemed and plotted all our lives to make it happen. Now we are stuck with being part of the royal game to the bitter end."

Settling down once again on the thick carpet, Merlin shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Sometimes I feel as if I couldn't look Arthur into the eyes anymore. There is so much we kept from him over the years. That Morgause had left the Druids and went after Uther on her own. That Uther Pendragon had been dead and buried for more than a month when Arthur was forced to face the assembly for his father's so called crimes."

"That a certain young magician had once tried to poison his foster sister for the sake of the Pendragons" Morgana chimed in.

Merlin looked at her pleadingly and reached out for her hand. When she took his, he said "you know why I did it."

"To save my brother, wasn't it? As always. Dear God" and she came down to him "if my brother only knew how much looking after he needs."

"Be glad he doesn't, he wouldn't like the thought. He's still the same arrogant royal prat."

Trying to change the subject she said "you know, I think it was this unique goofy smile of yours I first fell in love with."

He smiled at her but he didn't play along. "Did you ever tell your brother that Berengar had Vortigern poisoned for his affair with Berengar's youngest son?"

Morgana snorted. "Like hell I did. You know our beloved King, my precious. He would have laid fire to Berengar's estate, caused a civil war in his wrath. He is his father's son, you know?" Looking into the fire she said more softly "no, I didn't tell him. At that time, Berengar had too much support from the other barons. It took time to undermine his old alliances with the other great families. Besides, Vortigern never wanted the truth to spread. He feared for Camelot, for Arthur and all they had worked for in these five years. He said they had been the best years of his life. Even on the day he died he told me this."

"He died peacefully after you had taken away the pain" Merlin murmured. "I always wondered whether you could have saved him with your magic, after Gaius had given up on him. I most certainly would have thought to do it."

"I never tried."

"Why didn't you? You liked him even while you loved me!"

"He was happy when he died. His life's work had been fulfilled and my brother was more than ready to succeed him."

"Arthur didn't see it quite like that" the young magician remembered "he was devastated after Vortigern's death."

"Yes he would be, poor darling. But it all came true in the end. He is a great King."

"Yes, he is. You know, there is this nice gesture with his right hand when he dismisses someone, it looks really royal, don't you think?"

Morgana feigned a slap at his face. "Oh, stop it. Sometimes you are the prat. Even the barons speak of Arthur's "Golden Rule".

Merlin chuckled. "They ought to regarding the mass of gold it's flushing into their greedy fingers."

He stood up to pour himself a glass of wine. Morgana turned to him, suddenly serious. "As this seems to be our very personal and long postponed evening of truth, I have another question. You never told me why you didn't tell anyone, not even Gaius, that you had neutralized this stupid snake necklace after two days. Your magic was free and powerful when they first took Arthur from the dungeons to the northern tower. Why didn't you use it?"

Merlin sipped his wine for a while then he suddenly shuddered. Almost inaudibly he murmured "I did it for Uther's sake."

Raising his hand to quieten her he continued "I got knocked down in the vaults that evening, but I wasn't unconscious, only paralyzed and confused. I heard and saw what they did to your brother, but I could do nothing. After the brutes had dragged Arthur out Uther briefly talked to the two other men before they also left. Then he wiped his face with his hands and made back for the main castle. He... He carried me, comforted me. He said that I shouldn't worry, that everything was going to be all right in the end and that he would make sure of that. When he saw that the passage to Gaius' chamber was deserted, he carried me there. He told Gaius that Arthur had went out on a secret mission but that I had been injured by a wooden beam in a small cave in down in the ancient vaults. He were to stay with Gaius and me for the night until it was time to meet Arthur in the vaults again, on his return with some messages. I guess Gaius was too confused to see the holes in the story. While he searched for the stuff to treat my wound, Uther whispered to me, urging me to be quiet about what had happened; that Arthur's life depended on it. When Gaius returned Uther told both of us that, whatever happened, I was to protect his son with my magic until his return."

"To protect my brother with your _what_?"

"Uther knew. In fact he had guessed since I had brought Excalibur to the castle and later he had put two and two together. When you urged him to bring me _and_ Arthur to the vaults at any costs, he was certain. I knew I couldn't fight the whole castle and occupation army single handed, even with my magic intact. Naturally I could have freed Arthur but he wouldn't have thanked me for inciting Vortigern to kill his other hostages. So I waited for Uther's return until it was too late. Your brother didn't want to escape anymore. When they officially freed me of the necklace he hugged me, do you remember?"

Morgana nodded. "Yes. He told you that one day he would make you the Court Magician of Camelot."

"Three weeks later you and I learned from the Druids that Morgause had killed his father long before. I didn't intend to tell Arthur then and I saw no reason to tell him when the great assembly declared Uther officially dead, to free the way for Arthur's succession to the throne."

Merlin swallowed the last of his wine. "Let him simply go on with his life, he deserves it. We all do. Now come to bed." He went to the bed chamber and Morgana followed him.

**And so Balinor Castle, mostly without knowing it, slept into the tenth commemoration day of the death of Uther Pendragon, who once had ****been the King of Camelot**.

- Finis -


End file.
